Your First Year Wet Himself
by Draconis4290
Summary: Harry hates Draco. Draco hates Harry. Right? Wrong. In a nut shell, Draco rescues first years, Harry forgets to eat, Ron screams, and a first year wets himself. Probably not slash, but anything can happen!
1. Damp Encounters

Draco sighed.  
  
It was a sigh of the thoroughly disgusted, disgruntled, and dissatisfied.  
  
You couldn't really say he was unhappy, because he really had nothing to be unhappy about. His father was finally in Azkaban, where he belonged, may he rot in hell. Upon realizing that he hated his father more than anything, he felt kind of guilty; after all, the evil bastard was his father. Of course, memories of a whispered Crucio chased those thoughts out of his head. Draco was a Slytherin prefect, and there wasn't a kid in the house who wouldn't wet themselves should he tell them too. He was even dating Blaise Zabini, brainless but, hell, her equipment wasn't exactly lacking. He had received 11 O.W.L.s, most definitely not bad. So no, he wasn't unhappy.  
  
He was.... Bored? Maybe. God knows nothing was happening around here. Or, rather, everything was happening around here, just not to him. Wake up, eat, class, quidditch, eat again, and go to sleep. Repeat as necessary. Of course, bloody Harry Potter had plenty to do, what with dropping Divination to have private DADA with some chick with pink hair. Stupid Potter. Always walking around like the world was ending. Mope here, mope over there, pick at some food, and mope some more, that's all he ever did. Draco scoffed at the thought. Some savior he was. There was nothing Draco wished more then Harry Potter going back to being the arrogant perky bastard he had been. Now... now he was acting like, well, Draco. Draco was the one that moped around, because that's what made him so unfailingly sexy. He wasn't a cruel heartless bitch, he was misunderstood. One lip twitched into the trademark Malfoy smirk. Misunderstood. Right.  
  
Draco pulled himself from the window where he had been mindlessly gazing out across the lake. He was pretty sure he had just seen the giant squid reach up and grab some first year. Better go haul them out, Draco sighed, If it's that god damn Richton again, I might just let him die. He's nearly been digested three bloody times this month.  
  
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Harry Potter collapsed backwards into his bed. Now what? he thought. He had finished his extra DADA lessons with Tonks early, having accidentally set her hair on fire. It's not like I meant to, he mused, I just wanted to cook my hamburger a bit more, and she got in the way. Completely innocent. Harry could hear footsteps on the stairs. Someone had been sent to check up on him. Great.  
  
THUD  
  
An obviously graceful someone. Twenty gallons its Ron. Harry bet himself. The door opened. Footsteps. Harry smiled, with feet that big, the footsteps almost had to belong to Ron.  
  
"Glad you find setting Aurors on fire funny Harry. I told you that you needed a new hobby," said a very disgruntled Weasley somewhere off to Harry's left.  
  
Ron. Damn, I am good. Twenty gallons to me. Harry smiled.  
  
"You missed dinner. Again."  
  
Eating was not that important to Harry anymore. Of course, you could set your watch by how Ron ate. So it didn't surprise Harry that that was the first thing Ron thought to say.  
  
"Are you just going to lie there? You do remember that Snape assigned a two- footer on the uses of powdered bison horn in sleeping potions, right?"  
  
Snape. Damn Snape. Trust him to ruin a perfectly good moping. Despite what Ron thought, Harry was pretty much convinced that Snape was to be trusted. Just not liked. Never liked. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.  
  
"HARRY!!! ARE YOU DEAD??"  
  
Ron was inches from his face, and screaming as loud as humanly possible in an attempt to rouse him from his homicidal thoughts of Snape.  
  
"No, and it wouldn't matter if I was, a scream like that would still wake me up, and put me in about the same mood." Harry shoved Ron off of him, stood unsteadily and stretched his sore muscles. When he wasn't in classes or training, he was flying constantly, and his body let him know how much it protested.  
  
"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry's disgruntled appearance and bad mood. "Go eat."  
  
"Why? I ate yesterday."  
  
"Eating = fun. And you need fun." With that, Ron shoved him out of the portrait hole  
  
Why the hell not? I could go for some mashed potatoes right now or maybe a bit of pie... Harry was surprised to find he was hungry. Haven't been hungry in a while...Interesting. He meandered down the halls, thinking off all the ways he could cause Snape bodily harm with common Muggle household things like staplers. Or maybe a wooden spoon. Or...  
  
CRASH  
  
A very wet and disgusting looking Malfoy looked back at him from his identical spot on the floor; Harry had not been watching where he had been going, and obviously neither had the sopping wet blonde. An even wetter (if that is possible) and slimy and half-digested first year stood cowering off to the right.  
  
"POTTER!!! WHAT IN THE HELL WERE YOU DOING? YOU FILTHY HALF-BLOOD!!" bellowed Malfoy. His face started to turn a shade of red not commonly found in nature, yet surprisingly similar to the face of Uncle Vernon. Harry couldn't help but picture Malfoy and Vernon in a screaming match. The thought was too funny. He couldn't help it. He sniggered.  
  
"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS SO FUCKING FUNNY? TYRING TO RUN ME OVER? OH YES I FORGOT YOU'RE THE BLOODY BOY-WHO-LIVED-TO-KNOCK-ME-OVER!! IT ALL MAKES BLOODY SENSE NOW!!" Malfoy brutally pushed a large clump of mud and grime out of his vibrantly blonde hair. Harry idly wondered if it glowed in the dark.  
  
"Malfoy. This day keeps getting better and better," Harry hauled himself too his feet and found, though a bit dustier and slightly damp, he was none the worse for wear. Malfoy continued to scream and curse at everything that moved, causing the majority of the halls' portrait's occupants to flee to less... vulgar areas. Malfoy was currently telling him in which very specific parts of his anatomy that he could stick his "FUCKING PILE OF TWIGS YOU THINK IS A BROOMSTICK" Harry decided to refrain from telling Malfoy that his broomstick was at least twice as good as his in order to keep full possession of his other broomstick. Malfoy looked right about ready to rip it off.  
  
"Sod off Malfoy, you'll fucking wake the dead," Harry said, and trotted off towards the kitchens, pointedly ignoring the shrill screeching voice following him down the hall describing just how very dead he would be when Malfoy was done with him.  
  
"Oh, and Malfoy?" Harry turned around at the end of the corridor to look back at the disheveled blonde standing at the other end. Surprisingly, Malfoy stopped his assault on the ears of anyone within a ten mile radius.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your first year wet himself."  
  
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Draco lay awake in his bed, Blaise asleep next to him (he was horny and 16 year old with a hot easy girlfriend... what do you expect?). Somehow, he couldn't get Harry out of his head. Great, this is lovely. I fuck my girlfriend, and then obsessively think about my arch nemesis, who just so happens to be the most sought after guy in school after yours truly. Next I'll be reading "How to Be a Happy Homosexual." Fucking grand. Something about the way his screaming of insults hadn't ignited Potter's temper like it usually did bothered him. The look on Potter's face... it was almost as if he had somewhere else more important to be, like arguing with Malfoy wasn't good enough for him. Draco fumed at the thought. Not good enough for Harry bloody Potter my ass. So what if he can save the world five times over? We all know he's not getting any. Draco looked fondly over at Blaise and finally drifted off to sleep. 


	2. In The Quitiddch Shed

Harry was, once again, lying spread-eagle on his back in his dorm, contemplating the meaning of life. So far, he had figured that string cheese was better than cheese in a block. The savior of the wizarding world was a deep thinker, obviously. Ron was lying in the exact same position, six feet to his left on his bed. He, on the other hand, was currently contemplating a certain bushy-haired bookworm who was presently lying in a similar position in the girls' dorms, pondering a certain freckled red- haired Weasley. But that's another story.  
  
"Harry?" Ron's voiced was laced with apprehension.  
  
"Mmmm...." Harry's voice was muffled, as he rolled over to place his face unceremoniously into the center of his pillow. "What?"  
  
"Do you think Hermione would go to Hogsmeade with me? I mean, she wouldn't have to go as my girlfriend or anything, but I mean maybe we could stop at that place you went to with Cho and talk a bit? What was it called? Madam Purple Foots?"  
  
Harry groaned and slammed his fist down on the edge of the mattress. "Madam Puddifoot's. And that's not the place to go if you fancy talking. You're better off with The Three Broomsticks, trust me mate. Hermione might castrate you if you took her to the Hogsmeade equivalent of the Astronomy Tower."  
  
"Yeah, yeah you're probably right. But, what are you going to do?" Ron sat up to look over at the lump that was Harry. "If she agrees to go with me, that is."  
  
"Dunno. Maybe I'll just stay here, and see if I can get Seamus to go flying with me. That'll be fun."  
  
"You know, Harry, you could have any girl in the school. And probably half the guys too, it that's what you want..." Ron looked nervously over at his friend. He had been wondering why Harry never seemed to go on dates, or even flirt with girls. Maybe I should buy him How To Be A Happy Homosexual for Christmas...  
  
"I don't fancy boys, Ron, if that's what you're wondering. I'm just a tad traumatized by having some bitch start screaming at you and making a big scene on your first date. And anyway, the only thing I know about girls is that they don't like Dudley, the fat cow." Harry sat back up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. "Not to mention the fact that I just lost the most father-like figure in my life and I'm not in the best mood for dating right now."  
  
Ron blushed a sheepish pink. "Sorry mate. Just wondering, you know. It would be fun, though if you came with us, you know, as a double date." He smiled across at Harry. "Not that you couldn't come anyway, I mean if you want to..." he said nervously. Harry had been known to explode rather frighteningly at people sometimes.  
  
"No, Ron I think I'll find my own entertainment. But if you don't ask her soon, Neville might beat you to it..." Ron paled slightly at the though and ka-thunked down the stairs so loud you might have thought a Hippogriff was loose in the castle. Well, he finally did it then. Hermione and Ron. God, it's about freaking time. They've been ogling each other for ages. Harry tried to go back to his moping, but found that it wasn't working. He decided to go down to the common room and see what had transpired between the two lovers. When he got there, he found them permanently joined at the mouth. Making up for lost time, I see, he thought, which means it's on to choice B. Flying. His mood lightened a bit at the thought of flying; it always did. If there was anything that you could honestly say that Harry loved to do, it was fly. You couldn't be expected to save the world when you were 100 meters above the ground, now could you? Of course not. The walk down to the Quidditch pitch was surprisingly uneventful, he passed only Hannah Abbot on the way down, and she smiled sweetly at him and waved. She's cute. Maybe she'd go to Hogsmeade with me. And I bet you she wouldn't care if I didn't beat Voldemort. But that would mean that he'd beat me and we'd all be dead. So maybe she would care. Oh well. Harry paused outside the Quidditch shed, where he could hear muffled moans and the occasional scream from inside. One side of his nose wrinkled in disgust. Of all places to do it...my god... Then, an evil smile slowly slid over his well-chiseled features. Who ever said blackmail was wrong was most definitely NOT presented with an opportunity like this...Harry leaned in to better hear what was going on. The day was looking up after all...  
  
"Blaise, darling, you're so tight...what have you been up to??"  
  
Blaise??? DRACO'S Blaise? He couldn't tell who the guy in there with her was; his voice was too low and husky to tell.... Please let it not be Malfoy, so I can tell him and ruin his life. Please, let it not be Malfoy, Please, let it...  
  
"Drakey-poo, you of all people would know....." Blaise giggled in a girly way that was so like nails on a chalkboard. So it was Draco. Oh well. Harry got up to leave, but was soon brought back by the next few whispered words.  
  
"Just relax Blaise darling, I'm going to put it in." Muffled squishing sounds followed.  
  
"Ok Drake, just be careful..." Harry raised an eyebrow. Somehow, although Draco was the unanimous Slytherin Sex God, until now, he hadn't been able to picture Draco 'doing it'. Some how, he had figured he'd be the first of the two of them to take the plunge, he was the hero after all. Harry leaned in to hear better...  
  
"Tell me if it hurts, Blaise dearest," came Draco's voice from inside the shed.  
  
"Ok Drake, Mmmm mmm Drakie that feels so...... nice..... mmm......OH GOD DRACO RIGHT THERE!!! RIGHT THERE OH MY GOD DRACO OH MY GOD DRACO DRACO OH MY GOD!!" Harry jumped back from the door at Blaise's outburst, and landed nearly on top of a very startled Colin Creevey.  
  
"Gimmie your camera Colin," Harry hissed, "and watch as I get this picture put up all around school..."  
  
"But, Harry, my camera is everything to me, what if something happened to it? I mean, I just think..."  
  
"I'll kiss you if you give it to me." Harry waggled his eyebrows and tried to look endearing.  
  
"OK!" Harry leaned in as if to kiss the shorter boy, before grabbing the camera away.  
  
"HEY!!" Colin yelled. "WHERE'S MY KISS??"  
  
But Harry was to busy trying to position himself in the best possible place to get the perfect picture of the Slytherin Prefect. "Wait till Dumbledore sees this, Malfoy will be out on his ass," he mumbled. With that, he whipped open the door, and Blaise's continuing screams got still louder. As the flash went off, Harry was completely shocked by what he saw. Draco and Blaise sat at opposite sides of the room, fully clothed, Draco holding what looked like a long stick with a purple hand on the end that was currently pointing at Blaise.  
  
"Hello Harry. Fancy a bit of tickling?" Draco asked nonchalantly.  
  
"T-T-TICKLING? But I thought you were....but... What is that?" he finished lamely, pointing at the stick.  
  
"Oh, this? It's my newest invention, The Tickler. See? You hold it to a person's armpits and it tickles them. Like so..." Malfoy stabbed Harry in the armpit with the hand end and it immediately started to tickle him.  
  
"OH GOD MALFOY IT HURTS!! MALFOY NO, TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!! AHHHH THAT'S NOT MENT FOR THAT!!! NO, OH MY GOD!!" At this last scream from Harry, the door to the shed was once again opened and Ron stood in the doorway.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING IN HERE!!!? WHEN MIONE FINDS OUT YOUR SHAGGING MALFOY HARRY SHES GOING TO KILL YOU!! WHY I OUGHT TO...." Ron's ranting came to an abrupt end as he noticed both boys were fully clothed and on opposite ends of the shed, Blaise in the middle.  
  
"Hey Ron, fancy a tickle? Harry asked, and grinned mischievously.  
  
"A.... tickle? You were tickling him?" Ron's jaw dropped as he looked at Malfoy.  
  
"Yes, of course, what did you think?"  
  
"I, um, I didn't, I mean, Nothing!" While Ron had been stuttering and looking generally uncomfortable, Harry had grabbed another tickling stick, and crept behind Ron. With a look at Draco, they both jabbed his armpits with the sticks at the same time.  
  
"AHHH HARRY HOW COULD YOU? YOU AND MALFOY?? THIS IS SICK!!! NO TAKE IT OUT!!! PLEASE HARRY HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?? PLEASE NOOO PLEASE IT HURTS HARRY PLEASE OWWWWWW MALFOY NOOOO NOOOO IT HURTS SO BAD TAKE IT OUT THAT DOESN'T GO THERE!!! HARRRRRYYYYYYYYY!!"  
  
The door to the shed was blasted off its hinges and a very pissed off Hermione stood outside the door. "HAROLD JAMES POTTER GET YOU ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!!"  
  
Harry reluctantly stopped tickling Ron to step outside. Draco followed. "We were just tickling him 'Mione. Completely harmless. What did you think we were doing?" Draco offered his patent smirk.  
  
"YOU ARE GOING TO BE IN SUCH BIG.... What? Where did you get these?" she asked, grabbing the sticks from the boys' hands.  
  
"Malfoy invented them. They work great, see?" Harry stuck her with one. Both boy's eyebrows raised, as the stick tickled away but Hermione remained silent and fuming. "Well, they did work great a minute ago..."  
  
"I'm not ticklish. At all. Now remove that from my armpit if you ever want there to be more little Potters running around," Hermione practically growled.  
  
"Right. Um, Sorry?" Harry offered his best innocent look. Ron groaned from his position on the ground.  
  
"I hate you all," he said, with an attempt to lave his voice in venom. Everyone ignored him.  
  
Hermione looked at the two boys, complete opposites of each other really, and the redhead still gasping for air on the ground. Blaise got up and quietly dusted herself off.  
  
"Well, I'll just be going. It's been fun!" She said sarcastically and stalked towards the castle.  
  
"I'll, um; well I'll just be joining her, then, um... Goodbye Potter, Granger, Weasel." Draco walked as fast as he could without running back inside, managing to look a bit like a constipated duck with a gimp leg.  
  
"However stupid this might be of me to ask, WHAT were you doing here in the first place?" Hermione said, and poked Harry with the stick.  
  
"OW! I was just going to go flying. No harm in that. It's not my fault Malfoy likes to tickle people." Harry scowled at her and tried to look as menacing as possible.  
  
"Stop scowling Harry, you look like a farting wildebeest. Why is Colin Creevey unconscious over there?" She pointed to a lump of robes ten feet to the left, where Harry had left him after stealing the camera. "And why are you holding a camera?"  
  
"I... well see I really wanted to take a picture of..." All of the sudden, what he wanted to take a picture of didn't sound as good, so he continued "...the giant squid, yes, see, because he jumped up out of the water and I wanted his picture." Harry smiled brightly at his excuse. "Colin just happened to get so excited when I asked for his camera he passed out."  
  
"Harry, it looks like he was hit over the head! What did you do, smack him?" Harry couldn't remember hitting the midget, but he supposed it was possible. He had REALLY wanted that picture. A Malfoy-free school. It would have been perfect.  
  
"I might have," he replied sullenly "I can't remember."  
  
"Well, fine then, be that way! Ron, come help me get him to Madam Pomfrey, maybe she can wake him up." Hermione then started trying to lift the unconscious turd. Ron wandered over  
  
"Hermione? What's a wildebeest?" he asked his voice full of confusion.  
  
"RON!! SHUT UP AND LIFT!!" Hermione was red with the effort of hauling Creevey towards the doors.  
  
"Fine... stupid git." With that, Ron and Hermione trooped off towards the castle, holding Colin by his feet and his mousy brown hair. Feeling evil, Harry decided not to tell them about the Mobilicorpus spell. He smirked, and reached into the shed for his broomstick. Finding it, he started off towards the Quidditch pitch. There, he stood around for a few minutes before he realized he really didn't want to fly anymore. With a frustrated sigh, he followed the rest of the group back towards the castle. Stupid Malfoy, he though, I bet, he can ruin a perfectly good day just by fucking breathing. Cocky bastard. 


	3. Drunken Frenzy

Harry Potter was pissed. Of course, he had been drunk before, but never like this. This was mind-numbing, liver-ruining, staggering-on-pavement drunk. Hannah Abbot, who he had just asked out, was not quite as drunk, but I'm not sure it's possible to be any near that drunk and still be conscious. If Harry Potter was anything, he was certainly the Boy Wonder. Hannah threw her head back and laughed, pouring more Firewisky into her mouth, overflowing it and spilling all over her front. It was a Saturday night at Hogwarts, and Ron and Harry had snuck a ton of alcohol back into the school. It wasn't that hard, considering Fred and George had it all waiting for them to come pick it up.  
  
"Now remember boys, should you get caught, you did not get this from Fred and George. You got it from Gred and Forge. Understand?" Fred had told them as he shoved them back into Hogwarts newest secret passage, leading from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes straight into the Gryffindor tower. Of course, upon getting a few drinks into their system, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean were all drunk as sin. Harry had set off to find Hannah Abbot to bring her into the festivities, and upon bringing her back, they discovered that Hufflepuffs were indeed loyal.... to the bottle. She must have drunk more than anyone except Harry.  
  
"Guyhs! Hey, letsh all go into Hogsmeade, and have a night on the town, sheee?" Harry giggled like a girl at his proposition. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Hannah all staggered to their feet with some difficulty, and started in the direction of the secret passage. Of course, Dean and Seamus were conveniently blocking the way, and were sucking face like nothing anyone had ever seen before.  
  
"Thash incredible!!" Harry cocked his head a bit to the left and squinted. "How do they bend like that?" Some of the things the two boys were doing probably could not be replicated by anything short of monkeys or snakes. The foursome watched the natural wonder for a while, trying to figure out how to get past them into the passage.  
  
"Oh, Guysh!! I had an I-de-a!!" Ron said, and pronounced every syllable, like someone who is trying very hard not to sound drunk but is totally trashed. "Letsh use the old pashage, behind the humped witsh, you know?" All of the room's residents who were not currently defying nature with their mouths agreed, and they staggered out the portrait hole. The Fat Lady gave them a disapproving look and mumbled something about teenagers and alcohol, but the four were too trashed to hear or care. When they reached the witch, Harry muttered the password and they all slipped into the hump and staggered on towards Hogsmeade. No one, in their drunken frenzy, thought to close the hump, so it remained open and gaping for an also drunken Draco and Blaise to find. Draco, being the pompous assholes he had been raised to be, was still capable of normal speech, mostly because it would be an insult to the Malfoy family if their children weren't able to hold their alcohol. So, other than the smell, and his slightly odd behavior, it was hard to tell that he was really all that drunk.  
  
"Blaise darling," Draco said in his perfect Malfoy drawl, "have you ever seen this passage before?" Blaise shook her head and exploded into giggles, grabbing various parts of her boyfriend to keep her balanced enough to take another swig of her firewisky. Draco slid an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Well, my dear, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" -------------- "Blaise? Blaise where are you?" Draco worriedly looked around him at the other end of the passage, in the basement of Honeydukes, and then bent (a bit unsteadily) down to peer back into the trap door. "BLAISE!" He rose again. "Quite chilly in here. Wonder where I am? It's bloody freezing!" Just then, he turned to hear peals of laughter coming from the stairs. The smashed Golden Trio stood at the top, along with bloody Hannah Abbot, who's waist was the current resting stop of Harry's hands. As he watched, the laughing and drunken Boy Wonder fell off the basement stairs to land on a box of Jelly Slugs.  
  
"Ooff. Christ, thash a long way down. Bloody soft landing though." He tried unsuccessfully once, twice, three times before staggering to his feet. He looked around and blinked stupidly, before catching sight of Malfoy, whereupon he sat shot-put right back into the Jelly Slugs. High-pitched giggles flowed from his mouth.  
  
"Malfoy," he gasped, "WHERE IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOUR PANTS?" No matter how stupid the question sounded, it was none the less completely deserved. Malfoy stood in front of them in just his... well, he was going a la natural, that nice. To quote old Archie, he likes a nice healthy breeze round his privates, thank you very much!  
  
"On my legs, Potter, how much did you drink?" Draco tried his best to look dignified, as his put his hand on his hips. Incidentally, hips where no pants rested. He anxiously patted his hips, thighs, butt, and back to his hips before looking down. "WHERE IN THE BLOODLY HELL ARE MY PANTS?" Indeed, Draco had a right to be cold. He was butt naked from the waist down. Ron collapsed off the stairs and landed on top of Harry in the Jelly Slugs in a fit of laughter.  
  
"MY GOD MALFOY!!! WHAT A DAY TO GO COMMANDO!!!" The rest of his words were drowned out by the ringing laughter from the girls at the top of the staircase, who were holding on to each other to avoid joining their significant others in the Jelly Slugs. Malfoy hurriedly transfigured a box of Cockroach Clusters into gray trousers, and pulled them on, with mumbles of "bloody drunk Gryffindors" and "where in the bloody hell did my pants get to?" Just then, Blaise literally fell up the stairs and out the trap door.  
  
"DRACO!!! YOU FORGOT YOU PANTS!!" she screamed through mad high-pitched giggles. As she rolled out to floor level, you could see that she was tangled in a pair of guy's grey pants. "I PULLED THEM OFF AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE!!" Hermione and Hannah lost it. Off the stairs they went amidst mind numbing laughter, making a large heap of bodies and Jelly Slugs.  
  
"This is ridiculous. I will NOT be stuck in a room with a bunch of bloody Gryffindors," Draco stalked to the door.  
  
"I RESENT THAT!!!" Hannah screamed, because, she was indeed a Hufflepuff. Draco cursed and attempted to open the basement door leading to the back room of Honeydukes. It didn't open.  
  
"It's locked. Though why it would bloody be locked at 11:00PM at night is beyond me," said a slightly squished Harry from the bottom of the pile of Jelly Slugs/insanely drunk friends.  
  
"Now what?" Draco dejectedly plopped down onto a box of blood-flavored lollypops. Harry emerged from the mass of bodies, his drink amazingly still intact, and flopped down next to him on a box of Fizzing Wizbees.  
  
"Now, we play the drinking games, dearest worst enemy," Harry paused, and a baffled look came over his face. His mouth opened and closed a few times. Draco was about to ask him if he was ok, when he belched so loud a box of Ice Mice squeaked in protest. Harry suddenly smiled contently. "Gather round!" Harry yelled to the other three, as they pulled up crates of their own. Draco looked disgusted at the thought of playing with the likes of them, but he couldn't come back so early, not when he had made such a big deal of sneaking out of the castle late at night. He looked down at his feet. Blaise appeared to have passed out right at his feet. Draco sighed.  
  
"Blondes," He mumbled and shook his head. His hair was coming undone, he had to pee, and his pants smelled like Cockroach Clusters. Wasn't sneaking out after curfew supposed to be fun?  
  
"Here's what letsh do," Harry said as he tried to contain himself. "Does everyone know how ta play 'I Never'?" Everyone generally nodded, some more drunkenly than others. "So I'll go first." He thought for a moment, before saying "I've never missed the snitch," he said and grinned evilly at Draco, who tried his best to glare menacingly as he took a swig from his bottle of Firewisky. It looked a bit strange though, because he was, of course, drunk.  
  
"Well the rest of us never attempted to catch it, so I guess that means we never missed!" Hannah said, and nearly fell off her crate. "Now, my turn!" She thought hard, and finally came up with one. "I've never had sex," she said with a proud smile, and looked around to see who drank. Draco (of course) and surprisingly Harry managed to get their bottles to their mouths and swallow.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, "You? Who? When?" Harry suddenly looked pained.  
  
"Please... Don't ask." Something in his face implied he was really pained by the memory. Then he belched, and looked significantly better.  
  
"My turn!" said Ron, a bit to enthusiastically, and he rolled off his crate onto the floor. After righting himself, he said, "I've never changed the color of my hair." Hannah, and *gasp* Draco raised their bottles and drank. Everyone stared at the not-so-blonde blonde accusingly.  
  
"What?" he questioned, "You think people would be so intimidated by a mousy- brown haired Malfoy?" he snorted. "My father was enraged when I didn't have the legendary bleach-blonde hair, so he colored it himself. It has yet to wear off. I do think I prefer it this way, though," he finished and looked thoughtfully at a stray lock of hair that hung just below his eyes, before blowing it away from his face. Hermione sighed dreamily at this, but at an elbow by Ron, she straightened. Malfoy smirked at him. I pity you, Weasel, he mouthed, she'll never love you like she loves me...  
  
"Right, my turn," Hermione called attention back to her. "I've never read How To Be a Happy Homosexual," she said. Ron drank. "Oh, EW. And I was kissing you earlier?" Ron shrugged, and put his hands up in mock defense.  
  
"I was curious! I mean, I just wanted to know!! Go again, if it makes you feel better." Hermione nodded, and composed herself  
  
"I've never got a B" She looked unreasonably proud of herself. Everyone drank. No surprises there. So, the score stands at Hermione with zero, Hannah with one, Harry and Ron with two, and Draco with four. And it was his turn. He looked accusingly at Harry.  
  
"I've never saved the world." Draco said, and pronounced every syllable a bit more than normal. The alcohol was getting to him. Harry drank. Everyone else swayed on the spot, except for Hannah who smashed face first in the floor, out cold.  
  
"Wicked" Ron said, before joining her, smashing his nose on the ground as he fell. Hermione giggled, and, being unique, passed out backwards.  
  
"What now?" Draco looked confused at the sudden departure of his drinking buddies.  
  
"Now I look like a hero, even when I'm drunk as shit, by using Mobilicorpus and bringing them all back. Damn, I am good." Harry belched yet again and waved his wand at his three drunken friends, and they all levitated upwards, heads lolling around on their necks and toes skimming the ground. They lined up and went single file into the trapdoor and back towards Hogwarts. Draco imitated the wand waving that Harry had performed, and Blaise's arm flopped weakly at her side. He did it again. Same result.  
  
"POTTER!! POTTER GET BACK HERE AND HELP ME!!" Draco looked accusingly at the spot where Harry had been. Someone shouted from within the tunnel. Blaise rose, and plowed Draco over on its way through the trapdoor, Draco's pants trailing like a cape, effectively pulling him down the stairs into the tunnel, and slamming the door behind him.  
  
"POTTER!! POTTER WHAT WAS THAT!! POTTER!! HELP!!" Draco printed the length of the tunnel, to jump into Harry's arms at the other end, passing the unconscious Blaise on the way down. Harry unceremoniously dropped him on his butt in the corridor back at Hogwarts.  
  
"Shhh!" he hissed, "someone will hear you!" Draco nodded, caught Blaise as she rocketed out of the witch's hump, and started off towards his dorm.  
  
"Potter?"  
  
"Yes?" Draco pointed to Hannah, and the ever-increasing puddle of yellow she was lying in, congratulating himself already for the great one-liner he was about to say.  
  
"Your girlfriend wet herself." Draco could have kissed himself for having the last word like that, it was so... perfect. Surprisingly Harry smiled, and pointed to Blaise, who was in Draco's arms, and the large dark stain spreading slowly over them.  
  
"So did yours."  
  
Draco screamed and ran as Blaise went wee wee wee all the way home.  
  
A/N: Wow this took forever. Time for bed. I have so much fun writing this, I don't care if anyone ever reviews or not. Fun like this should be illegal. Anyone notice the How To Be a Happy Homosexual as a reoccurring theme? Well, I thought it was funny. Email me sdrawkcab21@hotmail.com with comments, or if you think of a plot. Because, I have no plot. And it could come in handy. 


	4. Harry's Not A Virgen

Harry awoke with a splitting headache and hardly any memory of the previous night. Around noon, he got up and staggered into the shower, where he promptly fell asleep against the heated tiles. Only when he slipped and crashed onto the floor did he wake up, wash properly, and staggered back out looking not much different from the way he went in, except he was all wet. Ron was waiting for him when he got back, looking not much better then Harry felt. His red hair was tangled and matted and there were circles under his half closed eyes.  
  
"Harry mate, Hermione wants you in the common room. And she said you have to go now or she'll hex off Mini Harry." Ron winced at his choice of words. "Sorry about that, but she cursed me, I had to say it or else Mini Ron would be no more." He paled noticeably at the thought. Harry nodded and began to trot off towards the door before being called back.  
  
"Harry?" Ron looked about to burst with contained laughter.  
  
"What? Do I have something in my teeth?" Ron had to sit down and catch his breath before answering, he was laughing so hard.  
  
"No, mate go ahead down like that, give the girls in the common room a good show. But bring your wand, half of them might faint!!" Harry looked down, and realized he was wearing nothing but a towel.  
  
"Not bloody funny Ron," He mumbled as he pulled on boxers and a pair of gray sweatpants. Ron continued to crack up on his bed, and a strangely high- pitched wheezing sound started coming from his nose. Harry fought for a minute or so with a sweatshirt, trying to pull it over his head, before Dean came over and kindly attempted to show him that he was trying to sick his body into the head hole.  
  
"I knew that," he mumbled angrily and stalked out the door, slamming it behind him. Seconds later his head re-appeared, hair sticking out at all odd angles, and screamed back into the room:  
  
"STOP BLOODY LAUGHING"  
  
Slam  
  
Thud, thud, thudthudthudthudCRASH  
  
Harry had gotten so upset he had slammed his shirt in the door, taken two steps and then crashed all the way to the foot of the stairs. Now he had ruined his favorite shirt, half of it still being a flight of stairs up, his glasses were shattered somewhere in the vicinity of his left hip, and there was a very angry looking blue trainer tapping irritably two inches from his face.  
  
Hermione. Shit.  
  
"Grand entrance Harry, is that how you wooed your wonderful lover? WHO YOU NEVER TOLD US ANYTHING ABOUT!!"  
  
Harry shoved himself to his feet and uncoordinatedly brushed a matted bit of hair out of his face.  
  
"Morning, Hermione." Why aren't you hung-over? He thought, or did you know a handy little charm? I knew I should have read more.  
  
"WAS IT CHO? THE SLUTTY BITCH SHES NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!! I'LL FRIGGIN..."  
  
"It wasn't Cho. No one at Hogwarts. At least, not anymore." Harry settled himself in the most comfortable chair, and smirked back at Hermione.  
  
"Then who was it?" She towered over him, and gave him her most penetrating stare.  
  
"Well, it was back in first year, when I was young and naive, and no one had yet tried to kill me..."  
  
*Flash back*  
  
Harry strolled up to Dumbledore's office, wondering what he could possibly want. He hadn't done anything crazy yet.  
  
"Sherbet Lemon," he told the gargoyle and followed the twisting staircase up to the office. Opening the door, he saw Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, and an even older and more decrepit, if that's possible, wizard sitting to his left.  
  
"Ahh, Harry, how nice of you to join us! This is my dear friend, Gandalf the White. We have just been reminiscing on the good old times, and you came up in conversation! Mr. Gandalf is really an amazing wizard," He winked at his old friend, who smiled, and strangely, Harry thought, blushed. Dumbledore continued, "He defeated the evil wizard that Saruman, and assisted a really short, yet devilishly handsome little man with the most beautiful blue eyes, and the most strangely erotic feet, and who could bend into amazing shapes...." Dumbledore got a strange far away look in his eye, and a slightly lopsided smile graced his wrinkled-as-a-prune features, similar to a smile you would see on someone who has just had a large amount of sedation drugs pumped into their system. Gandalf snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of Dumbledore's face, and he snapped back to reality.  
  
"Erm, yes, he helped Frodo the sexy, erm, small hobbit destroy the ring and save the world. Similar to what you are destined to do. Oh dear did I say that out loud?" Dumbledore had just told Harry in no uncertain terms that he would have to save the world, but no matter because Harry was busy trying to poke the Sorting Hat to make it sing.  
  
"Um, no matter, Professor, because I was attempting to poke the Sorting Hat to make it sing." Harry sat back in his seat, and looked at the two nasty old men in front of him. "So what do I have to do with this?"  
  
"Well, you see Mr. Potter, I was hoping to get a chance to show you some saving-the-world techniques, you see. Like how to ride really fast and not get blinded when your beard gets caught up in the wind, because it will not be the hero that fell of his horse because he couldn't see where he was going that saves the world, it will be the hero that can prevail!" Gandalf giggled and pushed his hat back up onto his head, because it had begun to slip down over his eyes and he couldn't see Harry properly.  
  
"But I don't have a beard. I'm eleven." Harry looked from one man to the other.  
  
"No matter!" Gandalf's grin was beginning to look forced. "I know plenty of things to teach you that could come in handy. Why, I know all about the realm of Gondor, and the plight of middle earth, and twenty five ways to drink milk with a straw. And only ten involve your mouth!" He grinned broadly and tried not to look like a young wizard molester. Oops, did I say that out loud?  
  
"Really? COOL!" Harry leaned forward in his chair and stared at the old wizard expectantly. "When do we start?"  
  
"Right now, my boy, if you want! Come, back to my private chambers where I keep my stash of, erm, straws." Gandalf hustled the boy out the door and through long complicated series of passages, before nearly shoving him through a door and slamming it behind him.  
  
*** Later that night, Harry lie awake in bed thinking about his 'learning' experience. Funny, he thought, I always figured 'Blowing the Horn of Gondor' was supposed to summon the great armies of the west. He rolled onto his side; he rear was a bit sore. I don't think I remember eating a knut, and I definitely don't think there was any reason for him to attempt to retrieve it. Especially with THAT. Bloody old wizard must be loosing his mind.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
"You see, Hermione, I didn't even know I slept with him until Ron read How to Be a Happy Homosexual and told me. He was very interested in it, surprisingly." Harry looked perplexed and possibly slightly disgusted at this realization.  
  
"Uhg, Harry, too much information. Go back to bed."  
  
So Harry did, on the way up retrieving the other half of his shirt from its place in the door jam, and giving Ron a good kick (he was still laughing) before hurling himself beneath the sheets. 


	5. Draco And The Benifits of Leather Chasti...

Draco hauled his sorry ass out of bed around noon Sunday morning. It took him a good ten minutes to remember the events of the previous night, and Blaise's 'accident'. He promptly ran down to the common room, and hastily scribbled a note for her. He read and re-read it over and over to make sure it was perfect. It was. He wrote it; of course it couldn't be anything less. It read:  
  
Dear Blaise-  
  
I am afraid that it is time we should see other people. Sadly enough, I am afraid I am not interested in girls with bladder control problems. Buy a bag of Depends and some medication and then come see me.  
  
Your disgustingly peed-on ex boyfriend,  
  
Draco Malfoy  
  
Yes, that would be the perfect way to let her down. Firm, yet caring. Just the way he liked to think of himself. He tacked the note to her door, and then rushed back to his own dorm to shower and get read to meet Professor Snape in the dungeons for an extra credit potions assignment. He really hoped it wouldn't take long, because he had a bad hangover and wanted nothing more than a nice dark room and a day of sleep. He stripped and stepped into the shower, letting the water cascade over his unhealthily pale skin. He shampooed his hair (repeatedly, can't have bad hair when you're a Malfoy) then dyed it (repeatedly, can't have brown hair when you're a Malfoy) then tied a fuzzy white towel around his waist and stepped into the bathroom. He then proceeded to pluck his previously perfectly plucked eyebrows (repeatedly, can't have a uni-brow when you're a Malfoy), shave the nearly invisible bit of peach fuzz on his chin (repeatedly, can't have peach fuzz when you're a Malfoy), and moisturize his face with no less than six different creams and exfoliates (repeatedly, can't have bad skin when you're a Malfoy). When he was done, he puffed out his chest and spent nearly half an hour studying himself and telling himself how beautiful he was. It was hard to keep up the traditional Malfoy arrogance, and he occasionally needed to pump himself up a bit. Finally, he returned to his dorm to get dressed. He grabbed a pair of boxers, and struggled to pull them on. Midway through, he noticed his leather chastity belt lying on his dresser. He stopped his assault on the boxers, and put it on instead. Then, he resumed getting dressed. Checking himself in the mirror one last time, he pronounced himself fit to go out, and slunk out into the dungeons.  
  
He didn't quite pay attention to where he was going, and he pulled open what he thought was the door to Snape's private chambers (where he had been told to report) to find not Snape, but Crabbe and Goyle both attempting to grope a blonde Gryffindor girl, who looked more than a little bored. The trolls were bad at groping. Actually, the girl seemed more than a little interested in drawing on her olive green canvas sneakers.  
  
"May I ask why you are allowing both of my bodyguards to grope you, while you study you feet? Most girls only let one," he inquired, and raised one eyebrow. He always prided himself in being able to raise one eyebrow, something Potter couldn't do. Bloody Gryffindor looked like a moron whenever he tried. Not much different from usual, come to think of it.  
  
"Well," she began, seemingly ignoring giant wandering hands, "I couldn't decide which one to have grope me, so I decided to have them both." Here she smirked in a decidedly Un-Gryffindor way. "Also, I was kind of hoping that with both of them together, they might form a brain cell and might be capable of forming words. I was wrong. So very wrong. So tell me, Slytherin Sex God, how do manage with such morons as friends?" Draco's one eyebrow had nearly risen into his perfect hairline, as random hand pinched random part and this bizarre muggle-shoe wearing girl didn't seem to notice.  
  
"I, of course, have myself. It keeps me sane," Draco said, and restored his eyebrow to its normal position.  
  
"Of course. If you don't mind, Adonis, this is slightly embarrassing, and I would prefer that it be done where no one would see. That is why I chose the door next to Professor Snape's private chambers, figuring no one would come here. Obviously he has more visitors than I thought." She gave him an appraising look. "Pity, too. You could have made so many women happy."  
  
"I am visiting Professor Snape for extra credit in Potions, nothing else!" he replied haughtily.  
  
"Of course," Random Girl said as she closed the door on him. "And I'm Prince Charles. Nice to meet you." The door closed and he was alone in the hallway. Bloody Gryffindors...  
  
Draco opened the door to Snape's quarters, and entered. He was totally unprepared for what he saw. Everything was.... Pink.  
  
"I must be in the wrong room," Draco muttered and turned to leave.  
  
"Oh, but my sexy, erm, sweet boy, you aren't. Welcome to my humble abode!" a very drunken Snape said, and threw an arm round Draco's shoulders, leading him further in and throwing him onto the couch. Snape sat opposite. Draco noticed on the copy table a hardcover of How to Be a Happy Homosexual. All of a sudden he was very uncomfortable.  
  
"So, Draco, about this extra credit...." Snape began. "It will not be a potion. It will be more a...test of where your loyalties lay. Tell me, do you trust me?" Draco merely nodded. "Good.... Very good..." ---------------------- Draco lie in bed later that night, feeling eternally grateful to his beloved chastity belt. Snape had eventually pinned him to the couch, stripped him, and then encountered the belt. Screaming in rage, he threw Draco out.  
  
"Professor?" Draco had asked meekly, "What about---"  
  
"AND THERE WILL BE NO EXTRA CREDIT! NOW GET OUT!!" Snape had turned an unnatural sort of purple, and Draco left in a hurry. He was not anxious to go to potions tomorrow. He rolled over onto his side, and snuggled deeper under the covers. I think I'll write Blaise another note. Or, come crying to her and tell her about what happened with Snape. Yes, and then maybe she'll make me feel better in the Quidditch shed after dinner... ------------------------  
  
Meanwhile, in Gryffindor Tower....  
  
"I HATE YOU!"  
  
"YEAH? WELL I HATE YOU MORE!!"  
  
Ron and Hermione stood at opposite ends of the common room, screaming at the top of their lungs, both approximately the same color as Ron's hair.  
  
"Trouble in paradise?" SeamusandDean (not Seamus and Dean, because that would imply that they actually were apart for more than thirty seconds at a time).  
  
"I think they're fighting over the remote," Harry replied, and raised an eyebrow at the words being said. Hermione told Ron to do something Harry was not sure was physically possible (but Dumbledore and Frodo can assure them that it is...)  
  
"I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" screamed Hermione, and she ran up to her dorm as Ron collapsed onto the couch. A random fourth year that no one bothered to learn the name of because they are not that important walked down the girl's stair at about the same time, spotted Ron looking dejected on the couch, and immediately attempted to walk like a supermodel, shoving out her chest and attempting to strut, looking a bit like a turkey. On second thought, a lot like a turkey. She reached him, and cooed in his ear, and then she slowly pulled him to his feet whilst attaching her mouth to his.  
  
"Come with me Ron. Let me cheer you up," Harry distinctly heard her say. Harry raised his eyebrows as Ron gave him two thumbs up as he was forcefully shoved up the stairs. Moments later, Hermione came flying down the stairs.  
  
"RONNIKINS!! I'M READY TO FORGIVE YOU NOW!!" She screamed, and looked around for him. Upon noticing his absence, she pouted.  
  
"Erm, Mione, you're about a minute to late. A random fourth year that no one bothered to learn the name of because she was not that important stole him and is presently shagging him in his dorm." Harry tried to let her down as easy as possible. She ran back up the stairs sobbing.  
  
"Nice," said SeamusandDean, as they smirked at him "Don't worry, they'll get together eventually. And at least Ron will get to drink the next time you guys play I Never. Bloody embarrassing to be sixteen, best friend to the savior of the wizarding world, and still be a bloody virgin."  
  
A/N: Random girl with the canvas shoes being groped = Amy. Random girl currently shagging Ron = Kassi. The part with Draco and Snape is short, because frankly I couldn't think of anything to write. I for one have never worn a chastity belt or been groped by a teacher, although Mr. Reccio I for one think he has tried. Bloody pervert. Tried to grope Robbie too. Anyway, this was yet another plot less but fun chapter. Hope everyone enjoyed. 


	6. On A Mission

Harry shoved Hannah against the door to the quidditch shed, and molded his mouth to hers. Tongues intertwined, hands met skin, clothing met ground, and a very naked Draco Malfoy stuck his head out of the door.  
  
"Scuse me?" he said, and tapped Harry on the shoulder. His usually impeccable hair was ruffled and disheveled, and his pale skin was flushed pink. "Right, Potter I know you're the Boy-Who-Lived and all, but we are trying to have a shag here, and all this banging is kind of distracting." He looked expectantly at Harry, who momentarily looked around as if he had forgotten where he was and why Draco was there.  
  
"But we booked the shed," Harry said.  
  
"You... booked... the shed?" Draco rose and eyebrow.  
  
"Yes, we booked it from 3:00PM to 6:00PM." He looked at Draco like he had grown another head. "Check the list."  
  
"The list?"  
  
Harry shook his head and reached inside the shed to pull out a brown clipboard with sheets of paper attached. He squinted at the page and ran a finger over the lists of names.  
  
"Ackerly & Bones....Creevey & Weasley.... Voldie & Snape... Voldie and Snape? Uhg. That's just gross... Ahh, here we are... Potter and Abbot, 3:00PM to 6:00PM." Harry showed the sheet to Draco, pointing out their names.  
  
"Oh. Well. Can I have just a moment then?" Draco disappeared into the shed without waiting for an answer. Hannah and Harry went back to their snogging. In a moment, Draco, with his god-like body walked proudly out of the shed wearing nothing but a quaffle strategically placed in front of the family jewels. Blaise followed, wearing a towel and two bludgers as a coconut bra. Keep in mind, bludgers like ramming into things. Couldn't have been comfortable. She winced as they rocketed around in her hands. Draco, in all his pale naked glory, stalked unconcerned into the castle without once looking back.  
  
"Remind me to always bring extra clothes," Harry said, and pulled Hannah into the recently vacated space.  
  
Meanwhile, in the castle..........  
  
Ron staggered downstairs to an empty common room, with exception of SeamusandDean, who were snogging madly on one of the couches.  
  
"Like bloody rabbits, they are..." the other lone occupant of the room heard him say. Hermione turned in her chair.  
  
"You should talk, going and shagging a random fourth year that no one bothered to learn the name of because they are not that important right after you fight with me!" Hermione scoffed at him. Ron would have retorted, I'm sure, if the portrait hole had not flown off it hinges, and a tall, emaciated man stepped through it. He was deathly pale, even paler than Malfoy, and his hair was jet black, hanging limply to his shoulders. His eyes gleamed completely black, no white, no other colors, no variations, just black. When he looked at Ron, Ron felt as if he could see right through him into his soul. There was something decidedly inhuman about this man.  
  
"Hermione..." Ron whispered, "What is he?"  
  
"Vampire..." she answered. Ron swallowed loudly.  
  
"Oh shit..." Slowly, they backed up away from it, but it was to no avail. The vampire rose his hand and Ron saw a blinding white light, and then...  
  
...Nothing  
  
Needless to say, no one was around to see the vampire slink up the girls staircase, and return minutes later with yet another unconscious Weasley thrown haphazardly over his shoulder.  
  
As Draco flounced proudly through the castle, the girls (and a good amount of the boys) fainted after catching just a glance of his large amount of exposed flawless pale skin. He was currently standing on a table in the Great Hall, posing for the large crowd that had gathered, watching as one by one they fell unconscious. Suddenly, a first year, Draco couldn't remember the name, went up in flames. Completely incinerated. Draco winced, hopped off the table, and began counting the number of bodies strewn on the floor. Thirty-seven! A new high! He wondered how to score the pile of ashes. Add points, or subtract them? Something tells me it's bad to send people up into flames... As he pondered, Snape and McGonagall strode through the doors, spotted him, and nearly ran over. Draco repositioned his Quaffle. Upon reaching him, both passed out.  
  
"Interesting..." Draco headed off towards the dorms, but was sidetracked by voices in the teachers lounge.  
  
"Ginny Weasley...vampires.... Dumbledore...sending...Potter... find him... save her..."  
  
Draco put the scraps of words together, and ran off towards the dungeons to get dressed.  
  
"What do you MEAN Mr. Potter is not in his rooms?" McGonagall paced Dumbledore's office in fury. Professor Flitwick cowered in fear.  
  
"Well, it appears he is out of the tower, as are most of the children on such a nice day..." Flitwick wrung his hands in a particularly Dobby-like way.  
  
"GO FIND POTTER!!" Flitwick turned tail and sprinted out of the office. Flitwick sprinted out of the castle as fast as his short legs could, flying across the grounds and screaming at the top of his lungs,  
  
"HARRY POTTER ARE YOU OUT HERE??" He turned around, as he heard thuds and muffled shouts coming from inside the quidditch shed. He ran over and ripped open the door to the quidditch shed.  
  
"HARRY!! HARRY THEY TOOK GINNY!! VAMPIRES TOOK GINNY!"  
  
A very naked Harry and an even nakeder Hannah sprang apart and jumped behind the chests that held the quidditch equipment.  
  
"PROFESSOR!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!! I SIGNED THE FUCKING LIST!! I HAVE A FUCKING HOUR LEFT!!! NOW GET OUT!!" he bellowed, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"BUT THEY STOLE GINNY!! THE VAMPIRES THEY STOLE GINNY!! WHAT ABOUT GINNY??" Flitwick looked about ready to have a panic attack.  
  
"I DON'T CARE!!! WE WERE BUSY!!!" Harry screamed, and got up with the intention of making a Flitwick pancake, but was stopped by Hannah, who had the decency to get dressed.  
  
"No, Harry, you better go save her. It is your job and all. Good day, Professor," she said and slipped out the door.  
  
"NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID!! THAT WAS A BLOODY GOOD SHAG YOU MIDGET!!" Harry rose to his feet and began jumping around in rage.  
  
"M-Mr. Potter?" Flitwick stuttered.  
  
"WHAT?" Flitwick winced, and looked at Harry very uncomfortably.  
  
"P-P-Please put some clothes on... Or else I'm going to have a very unfortunate problem..."  
  
Harry screamed and slammed the door in his face.  
  
******************* The two of them sat uncomfortably in Dumbledore's office, Harry leaning as far away from Flitwick as he could, and Flitwick blushing every time Harry crossed, uncrossed, or re-crossed his legs. Dumbledore watched all this obliviously; he was trying to tie a cherry stem in a knot with his tongue. McGonagall finally gave an exasperated sign and told Harry what had happened. She handed him his bag, Harry James Potter embroidered on the front, full of food and a few extra pairs of clothes and an extra cloak and a map and that nifty knife Sirius had given him.  
  
"Professor?" Harry asked, looking up from his bag. "You remembered to pack me underwear right? Because I can't do anything without my underwear. What if I get a wedgie?" "Potter... If you need addition underwear, then transfigure yourself some. Provided, of course you paid at least some attention in my class?" McGonagall raised her eyebrows, which just made her numerous wrinkles seem even more pronounced.  
  
"Of course Professor, I'll just be off now..." Harry walked towards the door, sidestepped a very flustered Professor Flitwick, and headed off towards the front doors. Just as he reached them, a large blonde blur smashed into him from the side.  
  
"Not even ou t of the bloody school and someone's already tried to kill me," Harry muttered as he stood up, and looked down on Malfoy who was still lying on the ground, next to a bag similar to Harry's, with a pair of boxers with little lightning bolts hanging out of it. "Well, doesn't this look familiar? Night shorts ferret."  
  
"Hey, I didn't pay attention in Transfiguration, I had to bring enough to last me," Draco gasped as he got to his feet.  
  
"Last you until what?" Harry asked skeptically.  
  
"I'm coming with you," Draco replied.  
  
"You're what?"  
  
"Coming. With. You. Potter. Understand?" Draco spoke as if he was speaking to a particularly stupid three year old. He was used to it; he spoke like that to Crabbe and Goyle daily.  
  
"But, why?" Harry asked. He couldn't comprehend why Draco Malfoy, his worst enemy, (and best drinking buddy) would want to come with him on a mission to rescue a Weasley, who he supposedly despised.  
  
"Because I'm in love with her, of course. What did you think?" Draco looked at Harry like you might look at a extremely dense hippogriff.  
  
"I... You love her?"  
  
"Yes, of course, you think Blaise can think of any good insults? NO! You think Blaise says 'SUT UP MALFOY' with as much vigor and hatred? NO!" Draco waved his arms for emphasis.  
  
"Well, that's not exactly what I look for in a girl, but, I guess being a sadistic bastard means you have different tastes." Harry started down the steps, before turning when he realized he was along.  
  
"Well, are you coming or what?"  
  
"I just realized that I am about to walk off into the sunset to rescue a poor-as-shit damsel in distress with the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. I am currently considering suicide, give me another minute to mull it over," Draco said. Both boys stood staring at each other for close to five minutes, before Draco followed Harry down the stairs.  
  
"Right, I've decided. Let's go."  
  
A/N: Houston, we have a plot! YAY! And a perverted Flitwick. Never really liked him anyway. Guess what, I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue. It's pretty cool. Kudos to Robbie for helping me in finding a plot. Unfortunately his didn't quite work out, (Sex, drugs and violence don't leave a lot of room for originality) but none the less I still got one out of the conversation. Am sleepy now, time for bed. 


End file.
